


More than words

by megafangirl81



Category: Code Black (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Love, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-23 00:28:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6098893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megafangirl81/pseuds/megafangirl81
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Christa finally confronts Neal about how his interactions with Grace make her feel and leaves him with a choice that only cements just how far he has fallen for her. Post 1x17.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More than words

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I am new to this site but not entirely new to writing fanfiction, although it has been years now since I have written anything. However this couple have pulled me in so deep. So after this idea came to me and wouldn't leave, I thought I would give it a shot. I welcome all thoughts and comments, but please be gentle, I am more than an little rusty. Hope you enjoy! Thanks!

"You know she’s not your enemy Christa" He meant the words to be reassuring, to try to show to Christa that despite the fact that it felt like Grace had been dropped into the middle of their lives and despite the fact that she was his ex-girlfriend, his attachment to her was now purely professional. In fact, if he was completely truthful there was some part of him that was hoping the two women could find some kind of common ground, outside of him of course. 

Looking up, he stole a glance in Grace’s direction, watching as she walked along with Rosaline. He saw her small smile back at him and for a moment, despite the past and the mountain of pain between them, he felt happy for her. She seemed to have finally found something to hold to. Her previous time at Angels, despite his reluctance to admit it, had been anything but settled. She had yearned for more, more than he could give her, which in the end had hurt him. 

However, as he turned back towards Christa, who had observed the entire exchange, his thoughts fell away. He may have meant to be reassuring but it certainly didn't seem she took it that way. She tried to hide it of course, masking her feelings with an air of annoyance as she walked away, but he could see the pain etched within the lines of her face. The insecurity that shun in her crystal blue eyes. There was something else there too though, something he couldn’t quite place. 

"Hey" he followed her into the locker room, watching as she quickly changed out of her scrubs. "You want to get something to eat before heading home? I am starving." 

Despite the war waging internally, Christa’s eyes lit up upon hearing Neal say the word _home_. He didn’t reference it as his home, though it was, he said it as though it was somewhere they both could consider home. And in many ways she did. Her clothes may not fill his closets, in fact she actually didn’t even have a key of her own, but when she was there, with him, as she had been every day for the past month, she felt more at home than she had in years. It was here, in this hospital, that she had now begun to feel out of place. 

"I think I am just going to call it a night, it’s been a hell of a shift." she replied 

The change in her voice was subtle, and it took him a moment, but when he realized what she was saying he felt something inside him fall. "You’re going to your place." 

"Yeah" She turned around, closing her locker door, before letting out a deep sigh. "I just need some time alone." She felt her eyes close, willing herself to continue. "I think we both do." 

"Christa…" Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of her name, the concern in his voice. "Please talk to me" his plea was genuine and as she turned to face him, looking into his eyes she could see his desperation. 

She didn’t want to do this here, in fact she didn’t want to do this at all. But that wasn’t the way relationships worked. Ignoring what was happening wouldn’t help either of them, no matter how badly she yearned to do just that. No more could she ignore the stolen glances or quiet implications of more between her boyfriend and a woman he shared a past with. A swooshing sound reverberated in her ears, an ache filling her chest, as she battled to say the words that tore her into. 

"Neal, I can't help but feel like I am walking into the middle of someone else’s love story." Her voice was now nothing but a whisper, her eyes breaking from his, not willing to face what emotions may lie there. "And I know you’ve said she is your past, but I can’t just ignore the looks, not when I see them happening between _both_ of you." 

Her confession was met with silence. "It's not..." Neal, tried to think of something, anything, to say but unlike her he had never mastered the ability to so easily voice his thoughts. He knew what he felt, how deep his feelings ran for Christa, but he didn’t know how to explain everything, or if he was being honest, what that explanation even was. 

His hesitation wasn’t lost on her. "Its okay." She finally broke through the silence, unable to bear it any longer. "This, us…" she motioned between them "happened so quickly. Maybe you need to take some time. Figure out what you want." She could feel the tears now burning her eyes despite her best efforts. "More than anything, I need you to be honest." 

There was no hesitation this time, honesty had always been of the utmost importance to him. Without skipping a beat, he looked down at her, his hands softly cradling her face, trying to resist the overwhelming urge to kiss away the tear that now marked a trail down her cheek. "I will always be honest with you." he promised. 

"Not just with me Neal." She could hear the crack in her voice, feel the ache deep in her chest as she realized what she was saying. What this could mean. "You need to be honest with yourself." Looking up into his eyes, unwilling or perhaps unable to break away, she knew she was already in too deep. No matter if it had only been a month, or if this had happened a year from now, she would never be ready for this conversation. Never be ready to face the possibility of having to say goodbye to him. "I have been through this before…" she reminded herself to take a deep breath "I won’t do it again." 

She could feel his eyes on her, they burned hot and heavy into her skin. But despite the looks, the tension, the raw vulnerability coursing through them both, there was only silence. He moved his mouth to speak, but the truth was he didn’t know what to say. Maybe, she tried to convince herself, it was better that way. 

Finally she backs away, turning around as she slips her purse on her shoulder. "I have the morning shift again tomorrow, so I guess I will see you then." She forces a small smile on her face, before she tells him goodbye, hoping despite the heavy uncertainty in the air, that she is wrong. About everything. 

Normally a kiss would follow, a look, perhaps a quick touch before they headed out the door. Yet there was nothing now but distance, a hesitation that despite her request to be alone left her feeling empty. He was quiet as he watched her walk away with nothing more than a nod of his head. There was nothing more he could do. He had walked in that morning, dreading having to deal with Campbell’s constant scrutiny and humiliation. And now the one thing he had looked forward to all day, the one person who always brightened his day, had just walked out the door. 

_________ 

His only thought, at first, was of going to bed when he entered his dark apartment. He didn’t even change out of his clothes, the day taking its toll upon his body until he simply didn’t feel he had the strength to stand upright for another moment. However, the silence of the room was suffocating, the emptiness of his bed making sleep hard to find despite the exhaustion that filled his bones. He tried to ignore the empty spot beside him, push away the longing to feel her heartbeat against his chest. Finally after hours of staring at the ceiling, he succumbed to a fitful slumber. The peace he yearned so desperately for, however, was no where to be found. 

It was three hours later when he heard the vibration of his phone, his mind tired and slow, but his body quick to reach for his phone in hopes that it was her. 

Blinking against the light, he quickly slid his finger across his home screen revealing a text message. However, its sender was not who he had hoped. 

**Hey, I heard things with Campbell were pretty intense today. Wanted to make sure you were okay.**

Grace. Who was quite possibly the last person he would have chosen to hear from. He sighed as he sat up in the bed. Was he okay? Not really, but that had more to do with lack of sleep and the missing blonde resident in his bed and less to do with Campbell. Although neither were things he wished to share with her. For a moment he actually contemplated not answering. But, british manners be damned he could never find it in him to be rude. 

**I am fine. Thanks for your concern but I have handled much worse than Campbell before.**

Truer words had in fact never been spoken. While admittedly Campbell rattled him, it wasn’t for the reasons most seemed to think. It’s just that he stood as a shining example of all the reasons he left surgery in the first place. 

**Glad to hear it. Just let me know if you need to talk. I could always squeeze in a meal at Hector’s.**

Now that woke him up. Sure he wanted their relationship to be cordial, even perhaps friendly despite the pain she had left him in a year ago. But an invitation to breakfast, or well any meal, didn’t settle right with him. It was toeing that line, the line between mere friendship, and well, more. Which was the very reason he was alone at the moment. It was a sobering realization. 

**Grace, I am no longer any of your concern. And with all due respect, I have someone to talk to, there is nothing else I need.**

Thankfully the correspondence ended there. The irony was not lost on him at how much of his feelings for Christa he had expressed. Feelings that he had yet to express even to Christa, the one person who he should be telling them to. It was not an easy thing for him, sharing his emotions. In that way he was much like his father. However, being with Christa had caused him to experience things he had never felt before. He wanted to be different, to be better. He wanted to share with her everything she deserved to hear. 

_"Neal, I can't help but feel like I am walking into the middle of someone else’s love story."_

The words would not leave him. She believed she was the obstacle. The pain in her voice at the admission echoed in his mind long after she had left. 

_"I can’t just ignore the looks, not when I see them happening between both of you."_

Those words had haunted him when he finally drifted off to sleep. Guilt lining the corners of his slumber. The hurt that flashed in Christa's eyes when she spoke, the tears she had proudly tried to keep from falling, gutted him. He had done that. He had caused her to doubt just how deeply he felt about her. 

_"You need to be honest with yourself. I have been through this before, I won’t do it again."_

And those were the words that broke him. Filled him with fear. He had been so caught up in everything else around him, from Grace showing back up to a completely new career path that he never thought about how it had all effected Christa. The thought that it could cause them to break up, felt like a punch to the gut. The fear of losing her laugh, her smile, the way she fit so perfectly against him when they slept. He couldn't imagine such an existence. 

He had known months ago that his feelings were so much more than he was willing to admit. Despite his every attempt to stay away, to not pursue a relationship, he couldn't seem to shake her. She permeated his thoughts every free moment he had, his eyes always searching for her across the crowd, something deep inside of him lighting up when he saw her face. In the end, when he found her in that supply closet, he realized it had long been beyond his control. And now, everything he had experienced since they entered into a relationship was even better than he thought it would be like with her. More than he could ever have imagined a person was allowed to feel. 

He couldn't just stay here and wait. No, he needed to do this now, before another moment passed with her wondering where she fit in his life. 

He was quite sure that he was on auto pilot as he left his apartment, driving through the crisp LA evening towards her place. He was also fairly sure he had no idea what he was doing or what he was going to say when he got there. But the mere thought of losing her, of her walking away from this had sent him into such a tail spin that he simply had to see her. The deep ache that found its way into his heart the moment she walked out of that locker room now felt so suffocating it was like someone was squeezing all his blood out. 

She wanted him to face the past, when all he knew was he never wanted to go back. 

________ 

Standing at her door, he could feel the fear lodged in his throat. There was so much he wanted to tell her, so much he needed to say but he worried he wouldn't be able to put it into words. As she finally opens the door, her eyes still full of sleep and her hair falling around her shoulders like a blonde halo, he feels everything in him come unraveled. 

"It wasn't quick" was the first words out of his mouth and in her eyes he could see her confusion. "This" he pointed between them just as she had done earlier that day "Us, it wasn't quick for me. I fell for you months ago, I just spent entirely too long trying to convince myself to ignore how I felt." He could feel the quickening of his heart, his eyes now locked with hers. "So I don't need any more time. There is nothing else for me to think about. _This_ is what I want. You are _all_ I need." 

His mind can barely register anything as he feels her soft hands on his, pulling him into her living room. The only sound coming from a ticking clock that sat in the corner and quite possibly the loud beating of their hearts. She said nothing and for a moment, a brief second in time, he wondered if maybe she didn't feel the same. And then with her hand wrapped around the base of his neck she pulled him down to her. As soon as he felt her soft lips on his, everything shifted. The soft, gentle kisses turned deep and desperate. All of a sudden it felt like his skin was on fire, like no matter what he did he could not get enough of her. 

But just as quickly it began, she pulled back, struggling to catch her breath. "Neal..." she breathed, finally speaking her first words since he showed up at her door. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his, a gesture that had become so much a part of _them_ it felt more intimate than any other. 

Her eyes meet his and he could see the soft tears welling. She slightly nods her head, saying yes to it all. He reaches for her hands, his fingertips softly dragging across her knuckles with such tenderness, such _love_ , that she wonders how she ever doubted him. Then she blinks and trails of silent tears, _happy_ tears, form on both cheeks. 

Nothing more is said. 

Neither of them are sure exactly how long they stand there, taking in the moment, their eyes now closed so they can commit to memory just what this feels like. The heat between them only growing in intensity. The pads of his thumbs now begin to unconsciously trail across the delicate skin of her neck and rest upon the small portion of collarbone revealed by her shirt. She shivers and releases a bated breath. Any answer he was still lacking comes as she steps closer, closing any space left between them. 

He drops his head to place a kiss on the outside of her collar bone and drag his lips, slowly, tortuously, in towards her neck. The tips of his fingers begin to slowly undo the buttons down the front of her shirt, leaving licks of fire everywhere they touch. His lips find a resting place, stopping just below her ear, his warm breath tickling against the soft skin. He can feel her buckle against him and he drops his hand to wrap around her small frame in support. "Christa..." he whispers breathlessly "I need you..." 

Her hands are soft but urgent as they lift his shirt, discarding it somewhere along the way as they move deeper into the room. Her lips are warm, her breath intoxicating, as she slowly makes her way from his neck, down his chest, lingering at each muscle indention. Her hand drops to lace her fingers through one of his belt loops sharply pulling him against her, her lower half becoming flush with his arousal. He groans deeply and its his turn to buckle when her other hand makes its way to undo the button on his jeans. 

His lips crash back against hers forcefully, most any coherent thought slipping away at the exquisite feeling of her soft skin against his. He begins guiding her backwards, pulling his mouth from hers just long enough to find out for sure where her bedroom is, all remaining trace of clothes lost somewhere along the way. 

Her kisses, now covering his body, are still feather light as he lays her back on the bed, driving him to the brink of insanity. Looking down at her, the soft moonlight framing her beauty, he is quite sure she is going to be death of him. As his urgent kisses once again grow tender, he feels like there is still more for him to say. "Christa..." He searched her eyes, willing her to understand. He doesn't want there to be any doubt about his intentions, about how deep for her his feelings really go. Those three little words burning within him, yet still trapped inside. _I love you_

She pulls him down to her, his eyes meeting hers, drowning in the deep pools of blue. Her hand softly caresses his face, a tear slipping beneath her long lashes, as she nods her head. "Me too" she whispered. She knew him, knew what he meant. He didn't have to say anything, she felt it all around her. 

It's all enough to leave his head swimming, to push them both past the point of no return. The moisture from her lips now covers his body, the marks from her fingernails leaving red trails down his back. 

His hands trickled down the sides of her body, tracing the swerve of her hourglass figure, never wanting to lose this moment, never wanting to lose her. 

The sweet sound of her whimpers, his name falling from her lips in breathless moans, echos in his ears, until he could no longer take it. 

His eyes finally shoot to hers just as he pushes himself inside, watching as her face morphs from one of tumultuous desire to sensuous wonder. 

The three words that hung in the air around them were never uttered. However, when he looked at her she felt it. When she kissed him he felt it. And when they finally reached the highest level of ecstasy, together, never breaking eye contact, it was etched deeper within them than any spoken words could ever be. 

Falling down beside her, struggling to catch his breath, he pulls her body against his, counting her heartbeat as it pounded against his chest. 

As his eyes begin to close, finally able to find sleep with her once again by his side, one last thought comes to him. Never in his life did he feel more at home than when he was holding her in his arms. 


End file.
